


hollowed words

by artsycat



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Hurt and comfort, tbh what a good genre this genre should be explored more often
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:12:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsycat/pseuds/artsycat
Summary: Rukia isn't made of glass, but Ichigo fears she might be.





	hollowed words

She tells him, “I am strong. I can protect myself. Have faith in me.”

And such a statement doesn’t really leave Ichigo much room to argue, because Rukia has said that in  _that_  tone of voice. The one that says – in bold letters, mind you – ‘I am Kuchiki Rukia and I am Never Wrong’ and with that, Ichigo doesn’t just listen to what she has to say, he shuts the hell up, and adversely clutches his blanket closer to himself.

He wants to tell Rukia that it isn’t her strength he doesn’t have faith in. It’s the circumstances which leave her wounded (physically or mentally – usually both) that he doesn’t have faith in. Oh, and Rukia’s idiotic brain which spews idiotic decisions – yeah, no faith in that either.

Because Ichigo knows Rukia’s strength. Knows the sword she wields like the back of his hand. And  _Sode no Shirayuki_  is strength personified – Ichigo  _knows_  that, he really, really does.

But, and Ichigo hesitates to say this, he wonders if Rukia can carry  _Sode no Shirayuki’s_  strength.

And he says that purely from his lieutenant point of view, of course. As Rukia’s lieutenant he knows he has to be vigilant about these sort of things, knows that he has to keep an eye out for every mistake that goes on in the battlefield. But when Rukia looks at him narrowed eyes that gleam blue in the moonlight, and tells him to focus on the battle rather than her, Ichigo accepts what she says and as her lieutenant moves on and let’s go.

As her husband, it’s a much different story.

They get back home, tired from the wounds they’ve received, and their eyes that were once tight with focus are now loose with weariness, but where Rukia goes to their bedroom and sleeps, Ichigo stays in the confines of their living room.

Ichigo knows he’s not gonna sleep a wink tonight.

He sits on their couch, the creaking of springs loud enough to make Ichigo cringe and he thinks, not for the first time, that he really should throw out this rotten old couch, despite what Rukia says about it holding good luck.

And thinking about Rukia brings him again to tonight. Where the battle against hollows became too tough, and suddenly, even Ichigo couldn’t keep up with the heat. He thinks,  _‘two minutes. If this doesn’t pass in two minutes, I’ll use bankai’_  – but while he was thinking and not paying attention; because Ichigo happens to be a fucking idiot like that, spacing out in the middle of the battle, he feels the air turn cold.

The already cool night air, turns even cooler, and goosebumps form on Ichigo’s skin, and he can’t even crane his neck and see what’s happening because there’re way too many things blocking his path and no matter what Ichigo does, no matter what way he cranes his neck, he can’t. Fucking. See.

When it’s all over and done with, all his mind can stand to think about is  _Rukia, Rukia, Rukia._

Ichigo sort of hates Rukia for it, for the effect she has on him. And he sort of loves her for it all the same.

She’s on the ground, her chest moving up and down slowly, and her body is shaking.

 _Shivering_ , Ichigo corrects himself. She’s  _shivering_.

He kneels down, brings his hand towards her, brushes her hair out of her eyes as they look up at him, and he thinks,  _‘Rukia, you_ fucking _idiot.’_

He stays with her as long as she needs him. As her lieutenant, but also as her husband. And the only picture in his mind is of Rukia’s lips gone purple, tinged with blue, and her chattering teeth as she shivers away from his touch.

He doesn’t think he can look at her without being reminded of this picture.

Rukia is strong, yes that’s true. Undeniably true. But Ichigo fears that it will be her strength that will prove her downfall.

And yet, he holds her still. Picks her back up and leans her against him, the contact of her ice cold skin against him making him almost jump as he walks her back to their home.

Ichigo brings a hand to his face and suddenly, feels much older than he is. The pain that he pushed down when he saw Rukia hurt comes back up to his chest with force, and it  _fucking_  aches.

_‘You’re still not strong enough. Still not strong enough.’_

He spends half the night lying on the rusty couch which he’s definitely gonna throw out sometime this week, when he hears footsteps making their way downstairs.

He doesn’t shift from his seat when Rukia plops down next to him and haplessly throws a blanket over his shoulders. He doesn’t give any indication that he’s noticed her, and he hears Rukia sigh heavily.

“Ichigo,” She says and turns to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Ichigo, look at me.”

And seconds pass when Rukia’s hand moves up to grab at his face and Ichigo does not fight, nor does he stop her. He finds that he does not have the will to do either.

He looks at her, and the crease in her brow is set in a serious line. And this is where she repeats to him the one thing he tries very hard to believe in.

She tells him, “I am strong. I can protect myself. Have faith in me.”

He shuts his eyes and looks away from her. He opens his mouth to find words to argue with, maybe something that will knock some sense into her. She calls him thick, but Rukia’s the most stubborn when it comes to her own critiques. So instead, he says, “I know.”

A chocked up sob; a hoarse voice. “I know.”

“Oh Ichigo,” And Rukia wraps her arms around him and he feels so small then. Which is almost ironic since its usually Rukia who’s the smallest when she’s in his arms, but Ichigo feels so tiny, so insignificant and so fucking unworthy.

 _I can’t even protect you,_  he wants to say.  _You won’t even_ let _me protect you._

He holds her, but Ichigo doesn’t cry. He holds himself in, and tries to breathe in Rukia’s scent, and to focus only on her warmth.

Her fingers run across his entire being, from his arms to his hair, as his face is pressed against her chest, his eyes shut tightly as the fabric of her night gown tickles his nose. His legs have apparently risen up from the ground, curled into him in a fetal position and slowly, his eyes open.

He feels the blurriness of tears in his eyes, and before he can make haste to wipe them away, Rukia catches him first. Her hand on his face as her thumb wipes the tear that threatens to escape from his eye and she brings her face close to his own, so close that their noses touch.

Rukia smiles at him, and in the darkness of their living room, where the only source of light comes from the window, the silver of the moonlight leaving streaks upon her pale and perfect face, her eyes then, an otherworldly blue, and Ichigo thinks, not for the first time,  _I’m in love._

“But Ichigo,” Rukia says, almost hesitantly, her eyes darting away from his for a second before they make their way to him. “You make me  _brave_.”

She kisses him, softly and slowly. And the hands that were once at Ichigo’s face now move their way down and down and down until the only words that escape from his mouth is Rukia’s name.

He thinks Rukia might be right about this couch holding some good luck. She’s convinced him. He won’t throw it out.

**Author's Note:**

> please review guys. come on. even if it's just a word, please review - signed your extremely exhausted and grumpy yet loving fanfci writer.


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